


The Bloody Chamber - A Prequel

by Ella1995



Category: The Bloody Chamber - Angela Carter (Short Story)
Genre: A Level, Coursework, Gen, Poetry, Revolting Rhymes, Roald Dahl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-31 10:59:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6467545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ella1995/pseuds/Ella1995
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something of a prequel to Angela Carter's short story 'The Bloody Chamber', chronicling the fates that befell the Marquis' previous wives prior to Carter's story, and all in the style of one of Roald Dahl's 'Revolting Rhymes'. Enjoy, and as this is my first ever upload to this site I would appreciate any reviews or feedback of any kind!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bloody Chamber - A Prequel

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Alrighty, so, this is just a quick note to introduce this crazy thing to everyone. It's actually a piece that I produced as part of my A Level English Lang&Lit coursework a couple of years ago that I'm rather proud of. Our brief was to choose a piece of literature from a list we were given, that included Angela Carter's short story 'The Bloody Chamber', and to then transform it into another style and form of literature, filling in a gap or unexplored area of the story we chose in the process.
> 
> The style I chose to transform my piece into was of one of Roald Dahl's 'Revolting Rhymes' in the form of one of his poems, which my Mother used to constantly read to me growing up as a child and which I absolutely loved. Furthermore, the unexplored area of the story I chose to delve into was what had happened to the French Marquis' previous wives and how they'd met their demises.
> 
> I suppose I've delayed posting this to anywhere for so long due to confidence and such, but here we finally are. Anyhow, that's about all I have to say about this, so enjoy! I hope you will, my Mum sure seemed to, ha.

This is quite a famous story.  
Dark, twisted, and rather gory.  
And yet much of the tale's unknown,  
And so to you I'll now intone,  
The story of wives one, two, three,  
Who met their fate through the Marquis.

We'll start our tale at one of course,  
Whose marriage won't end with divorce.  
A fine opera singer by trade,  
She met the Marquis when he strayed  
Into her dressing room one day,  
Presenting her a large bouquet,  
And exclaiming 'Bravo! Brava!'  
Proceeded to charm the diva  
On her performance in Isolde,  
And soon enough her heart was sold.

Within the month they were married,  
And away the girl was ferried,  
To live with the Marquis in France,  
A record whirlwind romance,  
But often she was all alone,  
While away to work he had flown.

In his absence he entrusted  
Her with his keys, many rusted,  
And so to pass the time she'd stray,  
Exploring the large house each day.  
Then one day the girl came upon  
A corridor which did go on,  
And on and on into the dark,  
So down this way she did embark.

Right at the end she found a door,  
She cried 'What's this door hidden for?  
'What secrets does he keep from me,  
'My beloved husband the Marquis?  
'I'll take this chance, while he's away,  
'To discover them all today'.

But when she tried to open it  
Only one of the keys did fit,  
And this key, it should be made known,  
Did access an out of bounds zone,  
For this one was the only room,  
Which lay as quiet as a tomb,  
As only the Marquis went there,  
Dealing in many a dark affair.

'Oh hell!' She cried 'I'm going in!'  
And in the lock the key did spin,  
But at this time it should be said,  
Her husband, the Marquis, did tread,  
Through the door and then up the stair,  
Went down the corridor and there,  
His wife was stood, door open wide,  
'Aha, I have you now!' she cried,  
And stepped inside oblivious  
Still to her husband's presence, thus,  
He crept to her without a sound,  
And wrapped his big, strong hands around  
Her delicate, small and pale neck,  
Then growled 'You should have listened, heck!  
'Was my warning so hard to heed?  
'It will do you no good to plead.  
'And now for disobeying me,  
'Your fate is death, I do decree!'

And then his hands grew tighter still,  
Followed by a vindictive thrill,  
As her body grew limp and cold,  
'Perhaps wife two won't be as bold!'  
He exclaimed, although none did hear,  
Arranging her upon a bier,  
After which he re-locked the door,  
And then wife one was seen no more.

Wife two comes next and just like one,  
Divorce would kill the Marquis' fun.  
This shy young girl, kind and carefree,  
Should have been in a nunnery,  
Her innocence, despite her age,  
Would land her in an early grave.

She met the Marquis when, one day,  
His big steed was racing her way,  
Just as she was crossing the street,  
On her way for something to eat,  
And everyone who looked their way  
Was sure the girl would die that day,  
When suddenly the huge horse stopped,  
While normally it would have knocked  
The poor young girl onto her bum,  
And trampled her 'till not a crumb  
Was left to show she existed,  
Proof the Marquis was quite twisted.

'Who goes there?' a deep voice rang out,  
Although he knew without a doubt,  
He'd seen the young girls face before,  
In fact, above his bedroom drawer,  
Where hung a painting he admired,  
Of the girl as it transpired.

A small voice squeaked 'I'm sorry sir!'  
The girl was glad he did prefer  
To stop his horse and save her life,  
Unknowing she'd be his next wife.  
The months of courtship here was two,  
Before the girl did bid adieu  
To modelling for works of art,  
And for the Marquis' home depart.

Now, here our story will repeat,  
To work the Marquis does retreat  
From the house to New York City,  
Which, really, is quite a pity.  
He left the keys with his new bride,  
And the rules he re-applied,  
That forbade her from going in  
The room wife one still lay within.

She spent her days cleaning the house,  
So thoroughly that not a mouse  
Could be found in the smallest hole,  
The girl knew for she did patrol  
Each corridor for certainty,  
And that's when, inadvertently,  
She came across the hidden door,  
At the same time one last mouse tore  
Between her legs and through the crack,  
A second before she could whack  
The spot the mouse had been upon,  
But, alas, the darn thing had gone.

'Oh no you don't!' the young girl cried,  
The same time in the lock she tried  
The key to the forbidden room,  
Turning it and raising her broom.  
As the door swung open she'd schemed  
To kill the mouse, but instead screamed,  
For right there in front of her lay  
Wife one in a state of decay.

The Marquis this moment returned,  
And at the scream his anger burned,  
For already the cruel man knew,  
What was in his second wife's view.  
He hurriedly raced up the stair,  
Went down the corridor and there,  
Wife two had fainted in a pile,  
At which he gave an evil smile.

When the girl came to once again,  
She found she was bound by a chain,  
With feet dangling above the floor,  
In front, the man she did adore,  
Who'd placed upon her dainty head,  
The wreath and veil in which she'd wed.

'Release me please, I've done no wrong!  
She shouted, but he said 'So long.  
'For disobeying me you'll stay  
'In here until your dying day.'  
Then from his wife the Marquis turned,  
Believing that the girl had earned  
The fate he had condemned her to,  
A fate that no one ever knew.

Finally we come to wife three,  
You guessed it, no divorce for she.  
By now word of wives one and two  
Had reached the ears of but a few,  
But gory tales, that weren't far off,  
Just made the Russian Countess scoff.

She met the Marquis' when, one day  
They both attended a ballet,  
And her keen nose for wealthy men,  
Led the Countess to him, and then,  
It was not long, three months in fact,  
Before she'd committed the act  
Of marriage to the horrid man,  
And left to live with him in Cannes.

I'm sure you know what's coming next,  
In fact, it made wife three quite vexed  
That already, within a week,  
He'd have to leave for Mozambique.  
Just as before he gave the keys,  
And then he did begin to tease  
Her with the knowledge of the door,  
But his warning she would ignore.

As soon as she thought he had gone,  
She searched until she came upon,  
The door the dreaded key would fit  
And in the lock she placed it quick,  
The lock clicked, she entered the room,  
A room which had become a tomb.

The Marquis knew the girl too well,  
And after he had left did dwell  
Around the corner for a while,  
Until a scream caused a grim smile.  
'Aha!', he said with frustration,  
'She's given in to temptation!  
'I knew it would not take so long,  
'Her curiosity's too strong.'

For a third time he climbed the stair,  
Went down the corridor and there  
The girl had frozen on the spot,  
Staring inside the room, distraught.  
The Marquis stormed up to his wife,  
And cried 'Don't you value your life?  
'Is one rule too much to obey?  
'You should listen to what I say!'  
And seizing her around the waist,  
Dragged her toward her doom with haste,  
An Iron Maiden, standing tall,  
Against the rooms farthest stone wall.

'No please!', she sobbed, 'Another chance!'  
As all the while they did advance  
Upon the dreadful, foul device,  
Which'd really make her pay the price,  
'You had your chance, you failed my test!'  
The Marquis replied as he pressed  
The Countess into the back spikes,  
And, well, you get the picture, yikes!

The Maiden's door closed with a moan,  
At which the Marquis gave a groan,  
And muttered 'Why can't they obey?  
'Rather my trust they all betray.'  
The Marquis left the dark tomb then,  
Never to enter it again,  
For wife four's next, we know her story,  
Though I'll say it's no less gory.

One word before the story ends,  
Because on this your life depends,  
I'll warn you once, please remember,  
To beware the bloody chamber.


End file.
